


just to turn a fleeting ash to raging flame

by EdwardNotSoLittle



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, And Edward is not a size king he is a whiny baby, Angry Sex, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Extremely Dubious Consent, Failed Rescue Mission, Like an owwie cock, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Rape/Non-con Elements, Shame Edward Little Power Hour, Solomon has a HUGE cock, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28862760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardNotSoLittle/pseuds/EdwardNotSoLittle
Summary: Edward's rescue mission failed.
Relationships: Edward Little & Solomon Tozer, Thomas Armitage/Solomon Tozer, Thomas Jopson/Edward Little, William Gibson/Cornelius Hickey
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7
Collections: Lieutenant and Sergeant Gift Exchange





	just to turn a fleeting ash to raging flame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tuunbaq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuunbaq/gifts).



_Curse you Le Vesconte._

Those were the thoughts in Edward's head as he was forced onto his knees before Mr Hickey, hands gripped his arms tight to keep him from running. Hickey lifted his chin with a cold hand and he glared into those sadistic, gleeful pools defiantly. 

**_We prefer the Captain’s orders, sir._ **

No one would come with him. He blamed Lieutenant Le Vesconte for that, how could he not? He saw how the men had eyed him.

He'd managed to kill Manson and Armitage, but he'd hesitated to shoot Hodgson and that was all the opportunity Tozer and Pilkington needed to flank him. 

"Well, lieutenant, have you come to join us?" Hickey asked with that ever playful undertone in his voice and that smug smirk that made Edward want to punch the rat-faced bastard in the face until it disappeared.

Awful impassive for a man who just had two of his followers killed.

Edward grit his teeth. “No. I came for the Captain.” 

Hickey let out an intrigued hum and looked around, over the endless sea of sharp grey rocks, scanning the area as if looking for something.

It made Edward’s blood boil. He wasn’t looking for shit, he was mocking him for the fact that he came alone and sure enough, the words came.

“All by yourself?” 

“I had to.” 

The words hurt to say, the men should have followed him. How dare they turn their back on their Captain.

“Ahh.” 

Hickey looked at Sergeant Tozer and gestured towards one of the tents. Tozer shot him a heated look and twisted one of his arms behind his back until he cried before forcing him to his feet. 

"Let go of me!" He snarled as the sergeant marched him forward. It was, however, as soon as they got into the tent that Edward fell silent. 

Crozier was there, he had his wrists shackled above him to a large box, there were some deep cuts on his face. He could almost feel the disappointment from the man as he was forced into the tent. "Edward?"

Hickey entered the tent behind them, a rifle was held in his hands. Crozier's eyes widened and Edward tried to look over his shoulder and managed to catch a brief glimpse of the rifle in the madman's hands. As soon as Edward noticed the gun he began to struggle, fearing the worst, but Tozer twisted his arm further until he stilled.

Hickey walked around and pressed the muzzle into the tender flesh beneath his chin. He felt his heart stutter in his chest and all the sudden he couldn't breathe. His chest was heaving for air and yet he couldn't get air into his lungs. 

"No! God dammit!" Crozier roared, yanking at his shackles. 

Mr Hickey rolled his eyes and flipped the gun to the other side, he raised it and the last thing Edward felt was the wooden rifle butt crashing into his forehead.

* * *

  
  


When he woke up, his vision was blurry but he could vaguely make out a figure in front of him. There was a cooling patch of wetness on his brow and it sent a shiver down his spine. He groaned.

His greatcoat had been removed, leaving him in the navy blue jumper his mother had knitted for him. He could feel the ropes that tightly bound his wrists against his back. 

"I'm sorry, lieutenant. I'm trying to be gentle." He recognized the voice as one he wasn't expecting to hear again. 

"Doctor Goodsir?"

The man offered a weak nod, but the title seemed to have troubled him because the slight smile to his lips fell.

"Please, call me Harry. I am not a doctor," he paused, a distressed look in his eyes before letting out a tired sigh as he shook his head, ", not anymore." 

Edward squinted, trying to shield light-sensitive eyes from the light that even made its way into the tent. This was almost as bad as snowblindness. 

"You have a small concussion. I imagine your head will hurt for a while." He said putting the bloodied rag down in a basin of snowmelt. 

He let out a tired sigh, he was quite fed up with always being either exhausted or sore in some way, shape or form. Remembering his brief meeting with their Captain, Edward looked at Doctor Goodsir hopefully. 

"Docto– um.. Harry, do you know which men carry arms?" 

At first, the only answer to his question was silence and the acknowledging from brown, hollow eyes of a man who just looked defeated. 

"Mr Hickey, that's for sure. Although he seems more favorable of a knife," the words were spat out with a bitterness that Edward couldn't fathom coming from the smaller man, he'd always had that nervous lilt. "Sergeant Tozer, Hoar… and Des Voeux… Pilkington, and Armitage and Manson. Then again, the last two are no longer with us… I don't think they'll trust Hodgson with a gun." 

Edward dropped his voice down to a whisper as someone walked passed the tent outside, "Goodsir," he looked at the man with no shortage of desperation, "Untie me, please, we need to get the Captain and get out of here." 

To his dismay, Goodsir just scoffed but his eyes were sympathetic. 

"After what happened to Gibson, I've learned that it is best to just do as they say. Besides," he paused to inspect another cut in his face, "Even though I'd like to do nothing more, I do not have the keys to our Captain’s shackles. Mr Hickey has them on his person." 

The words left him unsettled, and he couldn't help but ask even though he had a feeling he should have a mind not to. 

"What happened to Gibson?" 

Even more unnerving was it that the good doctor suddenly appeared quite pale, all color leaving his face, and for a brief moment Edward could have sworn he saw the younger man's eyes begin to shimmer before they dulled with intake of a breath. 

"William was too sick to haul, so his body was put to _other_ use." 

Edward's eyes widened in absolute horror. 

_They are partaking in cannibalism!?_

Goodsir cleared his throat uncomfortably, "As I fear will also be the case with Manson and Armitage." 

_Oh my God! We have to get out of here!_

Licking his lips anxiously, Edward tried once more to reason with his friend. "Harry, listen to me. You know that staying here will surely end in our death, we must get out of here. Please, help me. I am certain I can convince Lieutenant Hodgson to help us.” 

The only response he received was but a sad sigh and the silence that followed. 

It was clear that the good doctor had given up. 

* * *

Solomon felt a hollowness within his chest as he stared down at the lifeless body of the former gunroom’s steward on the _HMS Terror_ at his feet. 

The lieutenant had proven himself a good shot, he’d hit poor Tommy straight through the chest and Magnus in the stomach. Tommy had stilled after but a few seconds but despite doctor Goodsir’s _efforts_ Magnus died. Bled out according to the doctor. If you wanted Sol’s opinion, the man didn’t fucking try. 

His poor Tommy.

"I'll make that man pay for this, I swear to it."

Terror's first lieutenant could have been useful to them.

That was the thing about Edward Little though. He _could_ be useful, was _supposed_ to be useful. Instead, he was _always_ mucking things up.

First, it was not telling Fitzjames about the extent of Crozier's drinking earlier. Sol knew it wasn't gastritis the moment he saw how the Irish bastard reacted when Cornelius was lashed in such a way. The sweat on his brow. The cruelty. 

Then it was how he failed to command _Terror_ whilst he was in charge of her during Crozier's _illness_ . Instead, he was either moping about or, according to Gibson, the subordinate steward having walked in on the pair sharing a conversation about _Blanky's measurements on the ice report_ , chasing after the captain's steward.

Don't get him started on not arming additional men to set up a perimeter. 

_Now_ , he just killed the only man that Solomon had ever loved.

Before, in Terror camp, when the _creature_ ironically ended up saving both his and Cornelius' necks from the gallows, he had been willing to give the lieutenant a chance to join them. He could have been useful.

Not anymore. He was going to make sure Little’s end would be a painful one.

The familiar boots with the initials _JFJ_ etched in gold stitching came into his view from where he stood beside his lover’s corpse. 

_Cornelius._

“It is hard isn’t it?” the smaller man’s voice was an unneeded confirmation of his presence. Perhaps to his presence but it did bring forth a sudden to Sol all of the sudden and it filled him with absolute dread. 

Cornelius and Gibson had been together hadn’t they? That’s right, they were and yet he still had them...

A protective rage suddenly bubbled up in his chest and looked at the smaller man defiantly. 

"No."

Cornelius blinked and smiled one of those playful little grins of his, feigning innocence. As if he didn't have a clue what he meant.

“You're _not_ touching him. I'm burying him.” 

* * *

Doctor Goodsir had finished patching up the gash in his head and the one above his eye what felt like hours ago. They had done very little conversing, the doctor was no longer very sociable either it would seem. 

So now they sat in silence, every now and then Edward would go back to trying to slip free of the rope that had been used to restrain him. 

The sound an argument outside garnered both of their attention and Edward could feel himself grow increasingly nervous with each passing second. It was Sergeant Tozer shouting, something about murder, food, vengeance, and he could have sworn he heard his name in there somewhere. 

Hodgson's timid voice trying to interject only to get screamed at by the Marine Sergeant. 

Hickey finally raised his voice as well and the two went back at it. 

It sounded like the argument was what to do with him?

Edward paled and looked up at Goodsir, who averted his eyes with shame.

The voices quieted, but Tozer's distinct baritone was still seething with anger.

He wished he could hear them, but they were just out of earshot.

Finally, words stopped altogether only to be replaced with the sound of cracking shale beneath booted feet coming their way. The tent flap opened then, in stormed Tozer, looking very much like he was set to kill someone, and making a b-line right towards him. 

Alarmed, Edward used his legs to try to put some distance between them from where he awkwardly sat on the floor, but the Marine Sergeant closed the small space within moments. Large hands tangled into his hair and grabbed him by the scruff both pulling to yank him to his feet. He cried at the pull to his sensitive scalp but the other man ignored him and hauled him up and turned him around toward the entrance. 

"Let's go!" was the absolutely infuriated command he received. 

Edward didn't argue, he moved, he let Tozer march him out of one tent and to his confusion, not to the rest of the mutineers to be slaughtered, nor to where Crozier was. No, in fact, it was the tent across from the one their Captain was being held captive. 

It was empty.. but set up like an officer's tent. 

_Hickey and Tozer must sleep here, they're in charge. Why did he bring me here—_

"You killed Tommy." The words were spoken with barely contained anger. 

He was shoved forward and he tripped over some scattered supplies, without the use of his arms his face made contact with the shale and he let out a cry as it dug into the skin. 

The boot that made contact with his side was enough to roll him onto his side with a pained groan. 

"Please! I was just trying to get the Captain." 

A hand reached down and rolled him onto his other side so he was facing the enraged sergeant and not even a second later that same booted foot crashed into his stomach. He choked on the breath in his lungs when it came flying out of him with an audible wheeze. 

"You _killed_ him!"

Still winded from the devastating kick, the wave of vertigo that crushed his skull like a Goldner's tin when he was abruptly rolled onto his back damn near made him sick. He dry heaved.

When Edward finally gathered his bearings it was just as the marine sergeant was lowering himself to sit on top of his legs pinning him down so he was staring up into gray that were darkened with rage. He tugged at his bound arms and strained to get up but the larger man shoved him back down with a violence that had him cracking the back of his head on the shale, dizzying him once again. 

His head was _screaming_. 

Was it possible for a head to explode from a headache?

Rough fingers were messing with the toggles on the front of his trousers and his eyes widened in shock. His headache was immediately forgotten as he snapped his gaze to stare at the enraged, determined, and concentrating face of Solomon Tozer. 

Mouth dropping open in horror at the insinuation, time seemed to stand still. It wasn’t until Tozer was forcibly yanking his pants, and soon drawers that Edward came back to himself. 

He was _furious_ . He was _terrified_!

“Get your hands off me! No, god damn your hide! Don’t you--”

The sharp crack of skin striking skin from the cruel backhanded slap was what ceased his protest, followed by the pricking of a knife being pushed to his throat. 

“Shut the hell up or I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to you.” 

Even though he had a mind to continue making a fuss, as he knew he should -what would Jopson think? - something about the look in the marine’s eyes told him that he wasn’t joking. Reluctantly, he fell silent. That is until he noticed the unmistakable bulge in the front of sergeant's pants. 

“I’ll fight you.”

Tozer lifted his gaze to stare into his horrified eyes, the gray orbs were full of an undying fury and he tangled a hand into his bangs to yank his head up. 

“You won’t, or I swear, I will go and put a bullet through Hodgson’s head, maybe Crozier’s. This is his fault after all.” Tozer growled out. 

Edward went quiet at that, his eyes widened in disbelief. Was he truly being coerced into having sex with Tozer to save the lives of his men?

The darkened look in the sergeant’s eyes was all the answer he needed and he could only offer a slight nod through tears of frustration. It was all Solmon needed to be undoing his own breeches and taking himself in hand with a hiss as he pulled it out. 

Edward was truly a bit intimidated by the size of it, he wouldn’t lie. Whenever he had slept with Jopson, he himself had always been on the giving end that was normally his preference. Well, no, there was one time they had switched it up, it had been when he’d come down with snow blindness. In fact, Thomas Jopson was the first man he’d ever let himself be on the receiving end of, and he wasn’t near as big as Solomon Tozer.

Sol gave himself a couple desperate strokes before reaching forward and rolling him onto his stomach. He winced as he felt the shale digging into his cheek. 

“Hold still.”

He was expecting something completely different than a boat knife’s blade beginning to saw through the ropes on his wrists, soon freeing them. HIs heart began to race and he had a mind to book it and get the hell out of there.

As if reading his mind, a large hand slammed his face into the sharp stone floor. “Remember what I said. You listen to me.” the older man snarled furiously. 

“Yes… Yes, I promise.” he rasped.

“Hands and knees.” 

_Do it for them. Do it to live. We will live. We will live._

Letting out a shaky breath, he shifted his sore body into the position he was told. He heard Tozer spit and winced, his body was trembling with the threat of a panic attack he was barely keeping under control. Heat a weight was pressing on top of him and a strong muscled arm looped under his belly, and he jumped when he felt something large and very hard nudging already. 

Wasn’t he going to prep him?!

It was the thought that had him trying to squirm away and twisting to look over his shoulder, “Hey, wait a minute you need to-”

His words trailed off into a shout of pain, his whole body instinctively tensing up as he was shaftspeared open, tears gathered in his eyes at the burn of the stretch. An involuntary sob tore free from his mouth and it seemed to stop Solomon from beginning to move right away. Instead, the hand on his hip smoothed down a hirsute thigh.

"G-Gentle! Please… gentle…" he begged, hating how disgustingly pitiful he sounded, "... gentle."

Solomon leaned down to nuzzle at his throat, his lips moved against the skin sucking bruises and nipping at delicate flesh. It was a pleasant distraction while the marine gave his body a few moments of reprieve to adjust to his size. 

Much to his shame, he could feel himself beginning to swell. 

_What about Thomas?_

Something deep in the back of his mind laughed coldly and he flinched. It didn't matter if he wanted to accept it or not, the cruelty of the cards was that Thomas Jopson had been very, very sick when he last saw him. He had set out as soon as he learned the men were leaving, his hopes had been to rescue the Captain so they could be back to tend to the sick, that they wouldn't be abandoned long.

That plan had failed.

Was he even still alive?

"What, expect me to be delicate with you? After what you did?” 

The gears were turning in his head and it suddenly clicked, why Tozer was so enraged. 

_Solomon Tozer and Thomas Armitage were together... just like me and Jopson were._

So, the marine sergeant was suffering heartbreak in the worst of ways, and it was entirely his fault.

 _No_ , a voice reminded him, _Hickey and Tozer conducted a mutiny, they kidnapped the Captain, you were just trying to rescue him. You did what you had to._ Still, a painful guilt swam in his chest and he felt tears gathering in his own eyes, not just for Tozer’s loss but for his own, he was starting to come to accept the harsh reality that when they got out of here, if they got out of here, Thomas Jopson would be dead by the time they arrived. Grief overwhelming him, his arms gave out and he slowly lowered himself back down, hiding his face in his arms as he folded them in front of him upon the furs. The action unintentionally pushed his arse back against Tozer who groaned and rocked himself roughly into his body in response, taking that as his go ahead. Edward yelped. 

“Please! Solomon.. I didn’t realize that you two were... I-I’m sorry.” 

The use of his given name seemed to catch the marine’s attention because he slowed his thrusts to a still and peered down at him, when Edward looked over his shoulder he could see a thoughtfulness on top of the underlying rage within those stormy gray eyes. 

“What happened to Jopson?” the question came as a snarl but there was a genuine curiosity in it.

It was enough to have Edward choking on a sob and soon he was crying uncontrollably, as he struggled to keep his breath in his lungs. 

The sergeant grit his teeth but he did reach a rough hand down to card through his hair in attempts to sooth, there was so much pent up anger in his body that he couldn’t even begin to try to be gentle. He looked at Little and all he wanted to do was wring his neck, but Hickey had told him he couldn’t. That they may have use for him later. The bargain was that if Solomon wanted to bury Tommy, couldn’t be _eaten_ , Little couldn’t be killed. Killed, didn’t mean he couldn’t get vengeance in a different way. He’d sworn he’d make the man pay and now he was starting to find it difficult and it made him even more furious. 

“I swear, that’s not the same… I-I didn’t know that you two were… if I had I wouldn’t have aimed for-” 

The backhanded slap startled him but the moment he felt teeth suddenly digging into the flesh on his neck when the older man bit him and began pounding into him had him screeching and dirtied fingernails clawing at the furs beneath them. Thankfully, at this point he had stalled enough that the sensation wasn’t as bad as it could have been if he’d just let the marine start earlier so he braced himself as best he could. The fullness from Tozer’s cock was nothing compared to what he’d felt with Jopson, it stretched him to his max and at times it made his vision blur with tears. 

“You took him from me you piece of shit.” 

“I-I… ahh... I’m sorry…” Edward whimpered, biting his lip. His erection had started to flag earlier at the inquiry of Jopson’s status, but now with each thrust he could feel his prick slowly coming back to attention and he steadily propped himself up on his elbows so he could push back against those violently jackknifing hips. 

“You’re no leftenant, you’re a fucking whore. Look at you!” 

Edward’s face flushed a deep red with shame and he began to babble incoherently, “No, I.. I just… its not-- ooh-”

Solomon placed a rough hand on the back of Edward’s shoulder blades and and shoved him back down so his ass was in the air, he inched forward so he could get as close as possible and began slamming into the smaller man as hard as he could with until he was punching out sharp yelps with each thrust. 

There were a couple murmurs outside the tent and Edward could have sworn he’d just heard George calling his name with worry and a threat from Pilkington if he took one more step towards the tent. An argument broke out but it sounded vague and distant to his ears as the sound of his own cries and Tozer’s grunts filled the air and swam about his head. His own heartbeat pulsing in his ears.

A rough hand reached underneath his belly and moved down to his groin, groping for a second until it found his cock -shamelessly hard and heady at this point- and began to stroke him in time with the thrusts that were striking that spot deep inside him that had him seeing stars. 

“Ooh, oh fuck… please..” he moaned, clawing at the furs and wiggling back desperately against the larger body that was pressing down on his own. 

“Did he make you scream like this? Huh? I bet he didn’t. He was too bloody nice, wasn’t he?” 

Edward whimpered, he should say something, how dare he talk about Thomas like that! He should say something.

_Shut up,_ That was all he managed to force out and he even moaned afterwards, Tozer just scoffed cruelly.

His pleasure was mounting, he could feel himself getting closer and closer to that precipice of release. Judging by the noises and the erratic, desperate and near uncoordinated jerking thrusts of Sol’s hips accompanied by the animalistic grunts that grew louder as the seconds passed, the other man was close as well. 

“Mister Hickey, what in God’s name is he doing to him in there? Let me in! You can’t treat him like this!” Hodgson’s voice shouted just outside the tent. 

“I don’t think you want to go in there, lieutenant.” 

_No!_

Oh God, the idea of George seeing him like this. 

He panicked.

“N-No! G-George no!” 

There was a silence.

“I-I am… a-ah!... fine! Just… I’m fine! Please, do not come in!” 

Tozer ceased his thrusts but only slowed the stroking of his cock, dreadfully slow movements that had him biting the back of his hand to silence another moan.

“Edward? Are you sure?” Hodgson’s voice was soft, right outside the tent now. 

Panting, he tried to steady his voice, “Yes. I’m fine… just a... heated conversation.” 

The only response he received was the sharp crunching of shale, indicating that his fellow lieutenant had stormed off. 

George Hodgson was happy-go-lucky, but he wasn’t stupid. It pained him that he had to dismiss him in such a way. 

_You saved his life._

Tozer began to move again, desperate eager movement and it wasn’t long before his hips stuttered and he Edward jumped when he felt a wet hotness filling him to the brim as the man found his release with a loud groan. 

He stopped his thrusts and the strokes to his cock and Edward couldn’t help but look over his shoulder, ashamed to admit that he was disappointed because he hadn’t found his own release yet and he was wondering if the marine was going to help him finish. The sergeant had his eyes closed as he panted but the tension seemed to be gone from his shoulders. Edward noticed, now as he peered down at him those gray eyes appeared to hold a sense of guilt to them.

To his surprise he leaned forward and blanketed his body with his own, he reached around to cup his chin, tilting it up and lips were pressing against his. They advanced almost apologetically and when those hips started to move again it was slow, angled, and shallow. Not as deep to where it hurt like before. Not near as rough, no, gentle.

Sweet and sympathetic. 

Edward squeaked against Solomon’s lips, surprised by the sudden change in behavior and very confused. 

“I’m sorry.” Tozer whispered when he took a moment to pause for air. He went back to his affections and Edward couldn’t help but find himself losing control, his own lips responded with a hesitance. 

The marine sergeant began to stroke him again and Edward was quickly mounting back to towards his climax again, the accumulation of the kissing, attentions to his cock, and being fucked nice and slow had him a hot mess and he moaned into Solomon’s mouth, his hand moved to paw pleadingly at Tozer’s forearm. 

“Shh, let me take care of you. It’s the least I can do.” 

Edward was quickly becoming overwhelmed by the overstimulation, gradually Tozer inched further and further into his body but at a slower pace making sure to grind against that spot every time. 

It honestly didn’t take long for him to spend all over the furs beneath them, some of it getting on his navy jumper, leaving him a hot panting mess. He was absolutely exhausted in the aftermath that he ended up blacking out. 

* * *

As Edward cradled the Captain in his arms he looked at the carnage around them, at the giant _creature_ that lay in front of them, that lay dead in front of them. 

The _creature_ that had caused so much trouble since they first got stuck in this frozen hell. 

Diggle, Pilkington, Hoar, Des Voeux were all dead. Most of them strewn out around them.

Hodgson was dead.

Solomon was dead.

Hickey… Hickey was finally dead.

But…Tozer was dead… and it left an odd empty hold in his chest. Over the past couple weeks, the two of them had gotten closer. 

Now he was gone.

He’d saved his life. The _creature_ had charged at him just as Crozier had thrown the gun to him. He’d managed but two shots… one of them blinding the _creature_ in one eye. Then it had grabbed him. The Captain and him had managed to strangle the _creature_ with the boat chain, but at what cost? The Captain was seriously injured. He didn’t know if he could be saved… he had no medical training.

If only Tozer had realized a little sooner that Hickey was absolutely mad. 

Edward’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something grating across the shale. 

Looking over his shoulder he could honestly say that he never thought he would ever say that he would have been relieved to see Lady Silence in his life, but he was.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy where to start! Tuunbaq!! I hope this meets your prompt okay and I do hope it wasn't too dark! Jkhfghkkg I just hope you like it!!! 
> 
> As for this challenge, boy did it challenge me. I confess I am still on the fence about this ship but I do understand now why people like it so much and I could even see myself falling for it sometime in the near future possibly after Big Bang. 
> 
> Overall this was very fun!! I'm so glad I signed up!!!


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